


Servitude

by dvs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kink Meme, M/M, X-Men First Class Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 23:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8179831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvs/pseuds/dvs
Summary: Erik is Charles' butler, but they both occasionally take care of each other.





	

**I**

Charles smoked his cigarette, before picking up his teacup and sipping. He closed his eyes and hummed; the tea was a perfect strength with only a touch of milk and not so sweet that the taste was lost. Best of all, it was the perfect temperature. Smiling, he replaced the cup and picked up a neat triangle from the plate of cucumber sandwiches.  
  
“I say, Charles. That butler of yours is remarkable. Where'd you find a fellow like that?”  
  
Charles chased down the tasty morsel in his mouth with the rest of his tea before turning in the direction of his friend Jenkins; Earl, cad, bounder, gambler and anything else one could to do be frowned upon. Right now Jenkins was watching Erik speaking to the maid in the hallway. Impeccably groomed and postured he was speaking at a volume audible only to the listener.  
  
“Erik?” Charles said, taking another drag of his cigarette. “His mother was my governess.”  
  
Jenkins turned and stared at Charles, brows raised so high they were under threat of disappearing under his mop of black hair. “Well aren't you a lucky chap? My governess ran away with the family silver and yours left you a diamond.”  
  
“Edie was no ordinary governess,” Charles said, taking up a position by the fireplace. “And our man Erik is no ordinary butler.”  
  
Jenkins stuck a hand in his pocket, other one lifting his cigarette to his mouth as he watched Erik disappear into the room on the other side of the hall. “I don't doubt you for a moment.”  
  
Erik was closing the door to the room he had been in, about to move on elsewhere.  
  
“I say! My good man. Couldn't build up the fire in here could you? Beginning to get chilly,” Jenkins all but yelled.  
  
Erik stopped, almost mechanically. He was blinking at Jenkins and Charles could almost hear gears whirring and spinning in Erik's head. Predictably Erik looked at Charles and asked in a measured tone, “Sir?”  
  
Charles smiled at him and said, “Be awfully kind of you if you could, Erik.”  
  
Erik gave Charles a small easy nod and walked into the room with swift self-assured strides. As he built up the fire, Jenkins stood behind him, his eyes on Erik the whole time, eyes pale and hungry, cigarette hanging from his mouth. He was still watching as Erik straightened up and turned to Charles.  
  
“Will that be all, sir?”  
  
“Yes,” Charles said. “Thank you, Erik. Please, don't let us keep you from your duties.”  
  
“Sir,” Erik said with a nod, turning to leave, only to find Jenkins blocking his path. Charles rolled his yes as Erik patiently waited.  
  
“Nice job. With the fire,” Jenkins said, blowing smoking as he spoke. Erik didn't even blink, listening without any expression marring his face. “You could show my lot a thing or two. I'm quite sure Charles wouldn't mind... _lending_ you.”  
  
Erik blinked and then turned his face towards Charles. Charles nodded towards the door with a smile and Erik walked on without another word, leaving the drawing room and disappearing down the hall.

Jenkins whistled, pointing his cigarette at Charles. “That's a scandal worth losing a fortune.”  
  
Charles laughed, standing to pour another cup of tea. “I wouldn't worry if I were you. Where Erik's concerned, your fortune's quite safe.”  
  
Jenkins snorted, accepting the cup and saucer Charles offered him. “You would say that, with him in your bed.”  
  
“Don't be so dull, Jenkins,” Charles said, blowing a ring of smoke. “Do I really look the kind?”  
  
#  
  
Erik slammed into Charles again, this time pushing him forward so he slipped from his knees and hands, flattened on the bed. Charles moaned senselessly. He was burning up, his shirt stuck to his back, hanging loose everywhere else. He turned his face into the silken sheet beneath, opening his mouth and panting as Erik's broad hands grabbed him by his hips, pulling him up just enough before he started to stroke into Charles. Charles squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers gripping the sheets. Erik had been driving him mad for what felt like an eternity.  
  
Charles had been standing his bedroom, feeling tipsy from a night that had dragged on until Jenkins finally left. Erik had come in silently as he always did, helping Charles with his boots, his cuff-links, his waistcoat, his trousers and underwear and then finally unbuttoning part of his shirt and stopping before Charles could attempt to lift it off.  
  
He lowered his mouth to Charles, pressing a soft and tender kiss. Charles almost sleepily leaned against him, breathing a strange relieved sigh, telling Erik, “Come to bed.”  
  
Erik pulled back and looked down at Charles with cool blue eyes, complying when Charles pushed off his coat, pulled down his braces, pulled out his shirt. The rest Erik did, dropping his clothes to the floor until he was before Charles, all muscle and sinew, pale as marble. Charles wanted to blurt something out, something maybe Erik already knew. Instead he pressed a kiss to Erik's jutting collar bone. To his chin. The side of his jaw. His shoulder. Erik held Charles by his chin, before he could press another kiss, asking his question with a single open look.  
  
“I think,” Charles said thoughtfully and somewhat breathlessly, “if I kiss you all over, claim every inch of skin as mine, you'll stay forever.”  
  
Erik's hand left his chin, his finger moving to press against Charles' mouth before moving to trace the outline of his lips, pull at the corner of his mouth. Charles pushed his face forward, until his mouth was in the palm of Erik's hand, kissing it. Charles held Erik's hand to his face, eyes closed. Erik gently pushed Charles back until he was up against his bed, pushed him until he sat on the edge, watching Erik spread his legs, kneeling down. Just the feel of Erik's hands on his thighs, the intent in his stormy eyes, it was enough to make Charles come with a single stroke.

Swallowing, Charles reached down with a trembling hand to stroke Erik's still too neat hair. Erik closed his eyes, turning his face up into Charles' hand before he moved to press his cheek against Charles' thigh. He turned his face so his lips were against Charles' skin, kissing slowly. Kisses gave way to light nips, while his other hand possessively moved up Charles' other thigh. Charles lay back on the bed, anticipation killing him, his cock jutting out hard, still untouched.  
  
When Erik's mouth closed around the head of his cock, soft and gentle, Charles moaned, his breath stuttering in his chest. He reached back to grab at the sheets as Erik's tongue started to play teasing and coaxing games, his mouth supplying too little pressure and just enough warmth.  
  
“Erik,” Charles whispered.

And then there was just heat and Erik's mouth sucking and moving. Charles lay back as Erik manhandled him, moving his legs so they were hooked over Erik's shoulders, bringing Erik in so close. Panting and moaning, Charles let one hand roam under his shirt, across his own body, the other hand scrabbling for purchase on silky sheets as Erik took Charles in deeper and deeper.  
  
“Erik!” Charles grunted in warning, just in time for Erik to withdraw only to have Charles come splatter across his chest.  
  
Charles covered his face with both hands, breathing hard, while Erik's hand soothingly stroked both his thighs before he got up and left the room. He returned with a towel, having wiped himself and then set about gently wiping up Charles with the warm towel. As Erik went to set aside the towel and lower the lights, Charles moved to lie with his head on the pillows  
  
He was curious to as why he was still wearing his shirt, as well as irritated at the patches of it which were damp against his skin now. Deciding to be rid of it, he started to unbutton the rest when Erik came back to bed, slapping Charles' hands away.  
  
“Keep it on,” he said softly, smirking. Charles smiled and re-buttoned the shirt. “Better.”  
  
Erik lowered himself down on Charles as Charles loosely drew up his legs, letting them lean in towards Erik's hips. Erik was indulging in slow leisurely kisses, tasting Charles' mouth, playing with his lips. Lost in the kisses and the feel of Erik's skin under Charles' hands, Charles barely noticed the grease on Erik's fingers, and their light touch between his legs, reaching slowly further and further back, toying until a tip of Erik's finger was slowly burrowing in, not an intrusion at all, but a pleasant quiet sensation.  
  
Their kisses remained slow and sweet, the way Erik was slowly finding space in Charles' body. Erik went from tentative gentle pushes to sliding a finger in and out, to adding another to loosen Charles up, Charles' legs opening in invitation. He was arching back, hungrily kissing Erik's mouth when he wasn't panting for more. When Erik turned him over onto his knees, fingering him from behind, he thought he might just come again and come right there.  
  
“Erik, please,” he begged when fingers weren't enough, when he needed that extra to push him over a second time.  
  
He let out a low keening moan when Erik held him by his hips and finally pushed his cock in, slow. His hips employed a gentle rocking rhythm to help him get in further and further until he had buried himself to the hilt, falling forward and resting his head on Charles' back for a moment. Charles thought he heard Erik whisper something into his skin, a quiet admission, a huge promise. But just as quick, Erik straightened up and started to slowly fuck Charles.  
  
It would feel like forever before Erik had been kind enough to fuck Charles and get a hand under him to wank him off at the same time. By then Charles felt he was completely gone, lost in a haze of lust and pleasure, grappling for something to hold and claw, his body being rocked over and over into the bed until Erik came with a quiet gasp, his hips stuttering and losing their steady rhythm, spilling inside Charles which made Charles finally come all over Erik's hand which had stopped and tightened in the grip of his own orgasm. Charles lay in a strange stunned state for a moment, eyes wide until he felt that stillness overcome him, that quiet where everything in the world seemed to come to a stop. He closed his eyes, his body relaxing, fingers uncurling.

Erik was sluggishly removing himself from Charles' body, his hands never ceasing the stroking of bare skin. After a moment, Erik slumped on the bed, half covering Charles, his breath hot on the back of Charles' neck. They were already impossibly close, but Charles pushed back against Erik until Erik's arm closed around him, taking his hand. They were sticky and covered in each other's mess, and Charles felt as if his limbs had turned to sludge.  
  
Charles extricated himself from Erik's hold and went to retrieve a fresh towel, wiping himself down first before going to Erik and slowly and carefully cleaning off the remnants of their lovemaking, while Erik watched him through half-closed sleep eyes. Throwing the towel aside, Charles added the shirt he had been wearing to it and climbed into bed, this time pulling up the covers up over both of them.  
  
“I should go to my quarters,” Erik said sleepily, while Charles found his place again, spooned up against Erik's side.  
  
“No,” Charles said. “I want you here.”  
  
Erik took a deep breath, bringing his arm around Charles and pulling him close, which as ever was the end of the matter.  
  
#  
  
“Your step-father is waiting for you downstairs,” Erik said, sounding neutral as ever. Even so, it made Charles sigh and sit up in bed. A moment later, Erik placed a tray with a fine breakfast in front of him. “I've told him you'll be down as soon as possible.”  
  
“So... you didn't tell him to bugger off like I told you,” Charles said dryly, cracking the top of an egg with his spoon.  
  
Erik raised a brow and quite dryly said, “No.”  
  
“Fine,” Charles said. “I'll be down in a moment.”  
  
Erik nodded and proceeded to lay out Charles' clothes. Charles frowned, chewing on a mouthful of eggy toast.  
  
“When did you have time to wash my shirt?” Charles asked, recognising the shirt from the previous night, now ironed and starched.  
  
“I didn't.” Erik brushed a hand over the clothes. Charles frowned. It was inconceivable to wear the same shirt two days in a row, especially if it hadn't been washed. Especially after last night's activities.  
  
“I can't wear that,” Charles said, scrunching up his face.  
  
Erik looked at him and rather politely said, “I'd very much like you to. Sir.”  
  
Charles blinked as a small smirk lifted Erik's mouth into mischievous realms. Intelligently, Charles said, “Oh.”  
  
Erik smiled. “Will there be anything else, sir?”  
  
“Huh?” Charles said, before shaking his head and saying, “No. No. No, um.”  
  
“Very good, sir,” Erik said, turning to leave.  
  
“Erik?” Charles called after him. “I'll get my own back on you, of course.”  
  
Erik nodded. “Of course. Eat you breakfast. It's getting cold.”  
  
Charles nodded, lifting his teacup to his mouth and turning his gaze to the shirt which held the most delicious secrets.

**II**

Charles was feeling warm and tipsy, smiling and laughing the whole evening, latching onto the arm of anyone who took his interest at the time. It was an end of year party, though Charles had jokingly referred to it as an end of days gathering. Only Erik seemed amused by this, if that beautiful corner of his mouth was anything to go by.  
  
Erik was a boon, having whipped the house into perfection for the party, without ever looking anything but polished and in complete control. Charles didn't see what Erik did around the house, beyond those things that only Erik took care of for Charles. It was his extended absences that always alerted Charles to the fact that Erik was busy butlering.  
  
Tonight, he hadn't glimpsed Erik once. But the wine was flowing, the food excellent, the guests in high spirits and full of praises. Once again, Charles had proved himself a resoundingly successful socialite, with thanks to Erik.  
  
“Charles! Hello there!” Charles turned in direction of the familiar voice, one part nervous, many parts polite. He saw its owner emerge from a small group, awkward and clumsy, owlish in his round spectacles, with neat hair that never quite kept its composure.  
  
“Hank, my good man,” Charles said with a smile, raising his glass. “In good spirits?”  
  
“You know me, Charles, not much of a drinker,” Hank said, raising a glass of fruit punch. Nervously looking about, he asked, “No, Raven?”  
  
“She's in Egypt, digging ancient graves from what I can gather,” Charles said. “I told her it was rather unbecoming for a librarian, but... well, she said something quite rude and I left it at that.”  
  
“Yes,” Hank said, possibly sighing a little. “She's... she's... rather amazing.”  
  
Charles gave Hank a sympathetic look, patting him on the arm. “Hank, I'm afraid she's unlikely to notice anyone not covered in a few centuries of dust.”  
  
Hank smiled, blushing a little. Looking around, he asked, “Where's Erik?”  
  
Charles laughed. “You're the third person to ask me that. Where's Erik? Where's Raven? What's a man got to do to get noticed?”  
  
“Publish a paper on the possibility of some humans possessing supernatural powers. That... that got you a little noticed,” Hank said with a nod.  
  
Charles pulled a face. “Getting laughed out of academia, not the kind of attention a fellow really wants.”  
  
“Well,” Hank said, about to be painfully helpful. “I just bumped into Mr. Howlett and he asked me if I'd seen Erik, specifically because he wanted to, quote, avoid that pretty boy man servant, end quote.”  
  
“Oh,” Charles said with a smile. “Thank you, Hank. You always know what to say. Oh dear, I think I see Mr. Stark coming. Last time we drank together Erik had to come find me in Shanghai. Embarrassing situation all round. If you'll excuse me.”  
  
Charles ducked out of the room, making his way down into the kitchen. There he directed some of the help to keep an eye on the guests while he took a moment to take care of his headache. He stepped into the kitchen to find Erik eyeing a large iron pot with suspicion. Maybe this was why everything tasted so good. Erik just scared it into being delicious. Charles leaned against the kitchen door until it shut.  
  
Erik smirked at the pot on the stove. “You should be with your guests.”  
  
“But, darling, they're exquisitely dull.” Charles scrunched up his face. Erik looked at him, arching a brow. “I'm out of wine and my staff, the people I pay, are refusing to get me more wine, because Mr. Lensherr has instructed them not to.”  
  
Erik shook his head. “I recall issuing no such instructions.”  
  
“Did you perhaps tell them to make sure I couldn't find a glass of wine tonight even if I happened to be in a barrel of the stuff?” Charles asked.  
  
“No,” Erik said smoothly. “I merely suggested they concentrate on keeping your guests happy. Perhaps, they misunderstood me.”  
  
Charles shook his head, smiling. “Edie used to do that with Mother. I don't think Mother ever found out who was behind the large scale theft of all the liquor. She thought it was Marko playing silly buggers.”

Erik was watching him impassively. No judgement, no sympathy, no expression that made Charles feel ashamed of all those things he had hated and then become. He just listened. It was Charles who held out his hand. Erik came to him, taking his hand firmly. He stroked the back of his other hand down Charles' face.  
  
Charles sighed, leaning forward until his forehead was resting against Erik's shoulder. He took a long deep breath, taking in Erik's scent, which was soap and clean sweat, just a touch of cologne. Pulling back, he smoothed down the front of Erik's waistcoat.  
  
“You're so damnably neat,” Charles groused. He looked up to see Erik smiling at him, his hand still firmly holding Charles'. “And you smell... hmm, ridiculously wonderful.”  
  
Charles leaned back against the door and looked up at Erik with a smile, pulling his hand out of Erik's grasp and reaching back to turn the key in the lock.  
  
Erik's brows were raised up a notch. “You have a house full of guests.”  
  
Charles nodded. “And a kitchen full of you.”  
  
Erik scowled, half-smiling. He was unsure if Charles was serious, which was delightful, because Erik was never unsure of anything. He seemed to exist in a constant state of readiness for anything. It made Charles feel... safe.  
  
Charles hooked a finger in the front of Erik's waistcoat. “I want you. Now.”  
  
“Now,” Erik said with a nod. Then he shook his head. “Here?”  
  
Charles gave a single definitive nod. “Here. Well, not _here_ here. But, yes, here.”  
  
“There's food in here,” Erik said flatly.  
  
“And I want to eat you up, what's the problem?” Charles asked, leaving Erik without any further questions to ask.  
  
So it was not long after that Erik was bent over the large wooden kitchen table, his hands gripping the edges tight, his hair almost touching the cheeseboard. His shirt and waistcoat were both open, his trousers around his ankles, Charles plastered to him, fucking him slow, his hands gripping Erik's slim hips.  
  
Erik let out a loud groan. Though it made Charles light up like paper on fire, he told Erik, “Shhh!”  
  
Erik quietly stuttered out something in German, something definitely uncouth and rude. He moaned again, this time quiet, the sound cut off by the sound of panting, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the table edges. Another thrust made Erik's arm whip down the table, sending the butter flying.  
  
“Oh god,” Charles panted. “You're beautiful, but that was close.”  
  
“Charles, I'm going to-”  
  
“Do it,” Charles said, pulling Erik back, getting his hand down between Erik's legs to help him. “In my hand, Erik. Come on.”  
  
Erik came with a surprised gasp, his whole body twitching several times. Watching him was enough to bring Charles' orgasm to the surface, his thrusting becoming ragged and greedy, chasing release and shoving Erik up the table again, one come covered hand slipping as it tried to keep hold of Erik's hip. This time Erik's fingers were curled against the table, curling into fists as he gasped with each thrust, until Charles finally came, slumping over Erik's back and finding his hands, gripping them tight like he might never let go.  
  
For the longest time, they stayed like that, both of them breathing hard, Charles hiding his face somewhere near the nape of Erik's flushed neck. He breathed in the scent of soap, sweat, cologne and that extra tang that had now attached itself to their bodies, to their clothes. Charles let his smile grow right into Erik's skin.  
  
“Erik?” Charles whispered. “Promise me something.”  
  
“Hmm?” Erik responded.  
  
“Please don't ever prepare any of my meals on this table,” Charles said. Erik quietly laughed. “No, really. In fact, have it burned at the first opportunity.”  
  
Erik hummed in agreement, before reaching back and slapping Charles' side slightly. “You need to move now.”  
  
“Oh, of course, sorry,” Charles said with a grimace, slowly extricating himself from Erik, gently stroking his back before Erik stood up. He seemed just slightly wobbly on his legs as he perched himself on the edge of the table. Charles beamed at him and leaned forward to kiss him, receiving the sweetest kiss in return. He put his hand between Erik's legs, gently stroking his now spent cock. “Do you know what I want now?”

Erik shook his head, giving him an indulgent look. “No. Surprise me.”  
  
Charles pretended to think about it, placing both his hands on Erik's thighs, idly stroking them. “I want you. To put yourself together. And then come upstairs. Some guests are missing your face.”  
  
Erik nodded, beginning to get up. “I'll go and change-”  
  
“No. No you won't.” Charles put a hand on his chest and pushed him back. Erik was staring at Charles, half-smiling and half-shocked. Charles nodded and said, “Checkmate, my friend.”  
  
#  
  
Erik looked particularly expressionless by the time Charles saw him. There was expressionless and then there was this brand of expressionless which indicated that should hidden expressions surface, it would be a bad thing.  
  
“I see you've bumped into Mr. Howlett then,” Charles said. Charles looked around and then leaned forward slightly, making a show of taking a deep breath. “You smell delightful. I could just... eat you right up.”  
  
Erik's cheeks coloured ever so slightly, a wry smile decorating his mouth. “Will there be anything else?”  
  
“Yes. You appear to be wearing some parsley in your hair,” Charles said. Erik narrowed his eyes and waited silently. “Well... there easily could have been. I found some butter in mine. What was really alarming was that no one seemed surprised by it.”  
  
The corner of Erik's mouth twitched and a little more softly, he asked, “Will that be all, sir?”  
  
Charles slowly shook his head as he quietly answered, “No.”  
  
“Very well, sir,” Erik said, smiling and leaving Charles with a strong cup of tea.

\- end -

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this prompt](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/9701.html?thread=22188517#t22188517), inspired by [this comic](http://fyodorpavlov.tumblr.com/post/65145266445). In my mind, when this fic ends, Charles and Erik (maybe Logan) join Raven in Egypt where she accidentally raises the dead and everyone looks sexy while firing pistols and running and Charles gets exasperated and says things like 'For goodness sake, Erik, stop dusting sand off my shoulders. We're in a bloody desert!' and Erik rolls his eyes, shoots a zombie and says, "Very well, sir."


End file.
